Taboo Rendezvous
by Professor Pasta
Summary: Late one night when the residents of 1216 Franklin Avenue are sound asleep, Lincoln Loud sneaks downstairs to meet with his forbidden love. He knows that there would be hell to pay if they're discovered, but he doesn't care. All that matters is being with her... Lincoln/?


**Taboo Rendezvous**

 **A** _ **Loud House**_ **fanfiction by Professor Pasta**

It was one in the morning when Lincoln Loud awoke for a risky get-together with the one he loved.

The snow-haired preteen was awakened by his phone, set to vibrate and placed right on his pillow, lest it rattle on the hard-wooden surface of his nightstand and wake anyone else up. Lincoln took a minute fully wake up and allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness before carefully stepping out of bed and tip-toeing to the door. He opened it just enough to allow him to slip through without making the hinges squeal like rusty nails on a blackboard.

Outside, the second-floor hallway was as silent and dark as the deepest depths of the ocean. Lincoln didn't carry his own light source, instead relying on eleven years of memory to guide him safely through the black abyss. Move to the left to avoid banging your shin on the end table. Avoid that squeaky floorboard outside Lola and Lana's room. Watch that wrinkle in the carpet near the stairs, it'll trip you if you're not careful.

Lincoln trembled with anticipation and dread as he made his way down the hall, each step slow and steady. His palms were slick with sweat, his stomach had twisted itself into a Gordian Knot, and his heart was beating so hard and loud that he was afraid one of his sisters would be awakened by its volume alone. He had to be as quiet as possible, as quiet as a church mouse, as quiet as Lucy, as quiet as –

 _Wait, what if Lucy's in the bathroom now reading one of her Princess Pony books?_

Lincoln froze mid-stride, the errant thought leaving him paralyzed. An ice-cold serpent of fear slithered up his spine and sank its fangs into his brain, flooding his mind with venomous fear. God, the bathroom! How could he forget something so obvious?! Ignoring Lucy's late-night reading habits, even one of his sisters answering the call of nature it could throw a wrench into his plans. Or worse: Lily could soil herself and her cries would wake up his sisters _and_ his parents, who would-

 _No,_ Lincoln thought, taking a deep breath to steady his frayed nerves. He had come too far to stop now. His true love was waiting for him just downstairs, waiting for him to take her into his warm embrace, and Lincoln wasn't about to let fear send him scurrying back to his room with his tail between his legs. He had to see her.

He _would_ see her.

After what felt like an eternity of cautious creeping, Lincoln finally reached the stairs. He kept a firm grip on the guardrail (not easy with how sweaty his hand was) as he made his way down, taking great care to step over the fifth step from the top which squealed like a cat whose tail was just crushed by a brick. Lincoln know there were only fifteen steps, but in pitch darkness and moving at a snail's pace, there may as well have been a million.

By the time he reached the bottom, Lincoln's anxiety at being caught had taken a back seat to excitement at the thought of being united with his love. He had to restrain himself from sprinting, forcing himself to take the same slow pace as he had upstairs through the dining room.

Almost there. Watch out for the chairs, careful of the cabinet… there we go. Just five more steps to the kitchen, their designated meeting space. Four more steps. Three. Two…

And there she was. Right there by the kitchen window, framed by the pale full moon hanging low in the obsidian heavens, a visage of ethereal beauty so pure that any artist would sell his soul for a chance to capture her image on the canvas.

For a moment Lincoln just stood there in the archway, drinking in the sight of his soul mate as she beckoned to him without saying a word.

He went to her.

He wrapped his arms around her, his hands gently caressing her as he kissed her deeply. As they came together, all the fears and uncertainties that had plagued Lincoln since he awoke melted away like an icicle in the warm spring sun. Feeling her beneath his hands and against his lips sent warm waves of euphoria surging through his body and soul.

"I've missed you," Lincoln whispered when he finally pulled back. "I know that sounds dumb, since we live in the same house and see each other every day, but… Every second we're not together like this feels like eternity in Hell. Being with you makes me feel whole, like I've found a piece of myself I didn't even know was missing. I can't imagine life without you.

"I… I love you."

With that, Lincoln leaned in and kissed her again. He didn't need to hear the words from her. He could feel the love radiating from her as he held her close.

Deep down, Lincoln knew that their love was not meant to be. It was wrong _,_ society claimed. In his mind's eye, he could see their family's reaction should their relationship ever be discovered. He could practically see the shock and disgust and scorn in his sister's faces, hear the ashamed weeping from his dear mother, feel the outrage and indignation in his father's voice as he disowned them both, cursing them for engaging in such _sin_ under his own roof.

But Lincoln didn't care. In the arms of his soul mate, his beginning and end, his one true love, none of that mattered. All that mattered was him being with her, holding her, kissing her, becoming one with her on a physical and spiritual –

"Lincoln?"

Lincoln felt his blood turn to ice in his veins.

The kitchen lights came on with a _click,_ blinding Lincoln with their brightness. Vision returned a few seconds later, and with it came the image of Lynn Loud Sr, Lincoln's father and patriarch of the Loud family. He stood in the archway to the dining room in his bathrobe and slippers, his face a mask of complete bewilderment as he blinked at the display before him. Lincoln himself didn't move a muscle, his face burning with humiliation and shame.

Silence reigned.

"Uh, son…" Lynn Sr. slowly asked, "what were you doing with the kitchen sink?"

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I just spent the last three hours writing over a thousand words of the most flowery, romantic prose I've ever penned in my life… for _one_ joke.

There's something seriously wrong with me.

The idea for this one-shot came when I found a comic that had Lincoln complaining about how he gets shipped with… basically everyone. His sisters, his parents, his pets, Bun-Bun, his best friend, his canon love interest, background characters that were on screen for less than five seconds in a single episode…

I read that comic, that old phrase "everything but the kitchen sink" popped into my brain, and… this is the result. So, yeah.

I know this seems like a terrible thing to follow "Who Can I Turn To?" with, but with the way life's been kicking me in the balls these last two months, I'm just glad I was able to write _something_. Hopefully someone at least got a good chuckle out of this story. And hey, now we can say that Lincoln Loud has been shipped with everyone and the kitchen sink. That's my contribution to the fandom right there. My parents are going to be _so_ proud of me.

Until next time, this is Professor Pasta, signing off.

 **The Loud House is owned by Chris Savino, Nickelodeon and Viacom. Please support the official release.**


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